CHAPTER XIV: THE HUNTING OF THE HART
As they went, they found a change in the land, which grew emptier of bigand wide-spreading trees, and more beset with thickets. From one ofthese they roused a hart, and Walter let slip his hounds thereafter andhe and the Lady followed running. Exceeding swift was she, andwell-breathed withal, so that Walter wondered at her; and eager she wasin the chase as the very hounds, heeding nothing the scratching of briarsor the whipping of stiff twigs as she sped on. But for all their eagerhunting, the quarry outran both dogs and folk, and gat him into a greatthicket, amidmost whereof was a wide plash of water. Into the thicketthey followed him, but he took to the water under their eyes and madeland on the other side; and because of the tangle of underwood, he swamacross much faster than they might have any hope to come round on him;and so were the hunters left undone for that time.
So the Lady cast herself down on the green grass anigh the water, whileWalter blew the hounds in and coupled them up; then he turned round toher, and lo! she was weeping for despite that they had lost the quarry;and again did Walter wonder that so little a matter should raise apassion of tears in her. He durst not ask what ailed her, or proffer hersolace, but was not ill apaid by beholding her loveliness as she lay.
Presently she raised up her head and turned to Walter, and spake to himangrily and said: "Squire, why dost thou stand staring at me like afool?"
"Yea, Lady," he said; "but the sight of thee maketh me foolish to doaught else but to look on thee."
She said, in a peevish voice: "Tush, Squire, the day is too far spent forsoft and courtly speeches; what was good there is nought so good here.Withal, I know more of thine heart than thou deemest."
Walter hung down his head and reddened, and she looked on him, and herface changed, and she smiled and said, kindly this time: "Look ye,Squire, I am hot and weary, and ill-content; but presently it will bebetter with me; for my knees have been telling my shoulders that the coldwater of this little lake will be sweet and pleasant this summer noonday,and that I shall forget my foil when I have taken my pleasure therein.Wherefore, go thou with thine hounds without the thicket and there abidemy coming. And I bid thee look not aback as thou goest, for therein wereperil to thee: I shall not keep thee tarrying long alone."
He bowed his head to her, and turned and went his ways. And now, when hewas a little space away from her, he deemed her indeed a marvel of women,and wellnigh forgat all his doubts and fears concerning her, whether shewere a fair image fashioned out of lies and guile, or it might be but anevil thing in the shape of a goodly woman. Forsooth, when he saw hercaressing the dear and friendly Maid, his heart all turned against her,despite what his eyes and his ears told his mind, and she seemed like asit were a serpent enfolding the simplicity of the body which he loved.
But now it was all changed, and he lay on the grass and longed for hercoming; which was delayed for somewhat more than an hour. Then she cameback to him, smiling and fresh and cheerful, her green gown let down toher heels.
He sprang up to meet her, and she came close to him, and spake from alaughing face: "Squire, hast thou no meat in thy wallet? For, meseemeth,I fed thee when thou wert hungry the other day; do thou now the same byme."
He smiled, and louted to her, and took his wallet and brought out thencebread and flesh and wine, and spread them all out before her on the greengrass, and then stood by humbly before her. But she said: "Nay, mySquire, sit down by me and eat with me, for to-day are we both hunterstogether."
So he sat down by her trembling, but neither for awe of her greatness,nor for fear and horror of her guile and sorcery.
A while they sat there together after they had done their meat, and theLady fell a-talking with Walter concerning the parts of the earth, andthe manners of men, and of his journeyings to and fro.
At last she said: "Thou hast told me much and answered all my questionswisely, and as my good Squire should, and that pleaseth me. But now tellme of the city wherein thou wert born and bred; a city whereof thou hasthitherto told me nought."
"Lady," he said, "it is a fair and a great city, and to many it seemethlovely. But I have left it, and now it is nothing to me."
"Hast thou not kindred there?" said she.
"Yea," said he, "and foemen withal; and a false woman waylayeth my lifethere."
"And what was she?" said the Lady.
Said Walter: "She was but my wife."
"Was she fair?" said the Lady.
Walter looked on her a while, and then said: "I was going to say that shewas wellnigh as fair as thou; but that may scarce be. Yet was she veryfair. But now, kind and gracious Lady, I will say this word to thee: Imarvel that thou askest so many things concerning the city of Langton onHolm, where I was born, and where are my kindred yet; for meseemeth thatthou knowest it thyself."
"I know it, I?" said the Lady.
"What, then! thou knowest it not?" said Walter.
Spake the Lady, and some of her old disdain was in her words: "Dost thoudeem that I wander about the world and its cheaping-steads like one ofthe chap-men? Nay, I dwell in the Wood beyond the World, and nowhereelse. What hath put this word into thy mouth?"
He said: "Pardon me, Lady, if I have misdone; but thus it was: Mine owneyes beheld thee going down the quays of our city, and thence aship-board, and the ship sailed out of the haven. And first of all wenta strange dwarf, whom I have seen here, and then thy Maid; and then wentthy gracious and lovely body."
The Lady's face changed as he spoke, and she turned red and then pale,and set her teeth; but she refrained her, and said: "Squire, I see ofthee that thou art no liar, nor light of wit, therefore I suppose thatthou hast verily seen some appearance of me; but never have I been inLangton, nor thought thereof, nor known that such a stead there was untilthou namedst it e'en now. Wherefore, I deem that an enemy hath cast theshadow of me on the air of that land."
"Yea, my Lady," said Walter; "and what enemy mightest thou have to havedone this?"
She was slow of answer, but spake at last from a quivering mouth ofanger: "Knowest thou not the saw, that a man's foes are they of his ownhouse? If I find out for a truth who hath done this, the said enemyshall have an evil hour with me."
Again she was silent, and she clenched her hands and strained her limbsin the heat of her anger; so that Walter was afraid of her, and all hismisgivings came back to his heart again, and he repented that he had toldher so much. But in a little while all that trouble and wrath seemed toflow off her, and again was she of good cheer, and kind and sweet to himand she said: "But in sooth, however it may be, I thank thee, my Squireand friend, for telling me hereof. And surely no wyte do I lay on thee.And, moreover, is it not this vision which hath brought thee hither?"
"So it is, Lady," said he.
"Then have we to thank it," said the Lady, "and thou art welcome to ourland."
And therewith she held out her hand to him, and he took it on his kneesand kissed it: and then it was as if a red-hot iron had run through hisheart, and he felt faint, and bowed down his head. But he held her handyet, and kissed it many times, and the wrist and the arm, and knew notwhere he was.
But she drew a little away from him, and arose and said: "Now is the daywearing, and if we are to bear back any venison we must buckle to thework. So arise, Squire, and take the hounds and come with me; for notfar off is a little thicket which mostly harbours foison of deer, greatand small. Let us come our ways."
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